Page 34 of Lyrics of Her

Reed: Deadly.

Me: I don’t think that’s a good idea.

Reed: Newsflash. You kinda owe me one for the car.

Me: Is that why you did it? So you’d have some pull over me?

Reed: I did it because you needed it.

Me: And I said thank you. This is going too far.

Reed: I need my wallet. Please?

Me: You’re annoying.

Reed: So are you. Come on, Brin. Do me a solid?

Oh, great. Now he’s calling me Brin.

Me: Ok. Fine. Where do you live?

Reed: My address is in my wallet.

Me: I’m not going through your stuff. Just tell me.

Reed: I gotta go. I’ll be home by six.

Well, shit.

This is definitely not how I saw my evening panning out. A cross-city trip to God knows where, undoubtedly the Upper East Side if my guess is correct, and the thing that irritates me the most, the worst part of all… is now I’m going to have to put on a goddamn bra.

Brinley

“Miss Thomas. Welcome. Mr. Devlin is expecting you.”

Holy crappity crapballs.

I’ve just signed the log book at the front desk of one of the swankiest apartment buildings in the entire city, looking all around me like I’m some kind of tourist at an amusement park.

This place is no amusement park though.

It’s not gaudy or tacky at all. It’s lovely.

Black wrought iron, white walls, with marble floors and polished brass handles. There are leather armchairs set up in a small group by the front window, like a reading nook.

The reception desk is made of glass and the magnificent flower arrangement positioned at one end of the desk is as big as a small child. It’s made up of white lilies and shiny green leaves.

There’s a painting on the wall beside the single elevator, but from this angle, I can’t really tell what it is supposed to be. It’s abstract and really beautiful. But I still can’t tell what it is.

Is that a fountain over there? Fuck me, it is.

“Miss Thomas?”

The man standing in front of me speaks again, snapping me out of my awestruck trance. “Oh, uh… yeah. I’m just here to drop off Reed’s… uh, Mr. Devlin’s wallet for him.”

The elderly man nods and then smiles kindly at me. “Of course, this way please.”

“Oh, no,” I tell him quickly, following him across the lobby. He’s really tall, and he’s got really long legs, and for an older guy, the dude sure walks fast. “I’m just going to leave this here with you. You can just pass it on for me. Please?”

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